


Alternate Ending | New Beginning

by Pondermoniums



Series: Expecto Draconis [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst, Body Worship, Canon Universe, Character Development, Childhood Trauma, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence Barebone Learning Magic, Credence Barebone Lives, Dark Magic, Darker Plot Than You May Be Expecting, Dragons, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Humor, Forbidden Curses, Legilimency, M/M, Occlumency, Patronus, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Newt Scamander, Scars, Slightly Kinky Credence, Slow Burn, Torture, Wizard Duels, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums
Summary: If Newt had had a little more time in the subway station, Credence would have lived.And so much more.Credence Barebone is dead to the wizarding world, but in actuality he is alive and under the hidden care of the Goldstein sisters as well as Newt Scamander. The parasitical obscurus has been torn from him, but his magic remains, and they intend to use the best means they have of training it: with a school. First to Ilvermorny and then to Hogwarts, Newt, Tina, and Queenie open Credence’s mind and heart to the world he had been denied for so long.But first stop: the Kowalski bakery.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! I rewatched Fantastic Beasts recently and look, we all wanted to yank Credence out of the screen and protect him with our dingle hoppers.
> 
> Really this could just be the first chapter but I'm separating it into parts of a series so folks can read the ending if they only want that, and because there is a slight time gap between the "ending" and when the rest of the story kicks off. (Only like a week and a half difference, but whatever.)

Newt flew through the air, the familiar suction of apparition tugging at his limbs as he dodged and raced after the skeletal limbs of the obscurial darkness.

He was slowing down.

Newt’s boots landed on a rooftop and ran. The obscurial power bloomed, the sandy wisps of black fringed with orange, like embers. It was unlike anything Newt had ever witnessed. Beautiful and horrific. He needed to get to Credence.

The obscurus landed with a great ruckus on the other side of a police barricade, the lot of good the muggles would do. Just the force of that amount of power landing lifted the pavement in jagged tiles. Newt watched the cloud recede and fold into a much smaller visage. Credence descended into the subway station; he appeared to have a limp.

Suction consumed him as he transported himself below ground. The train platform was vacant, apart from the sandy black forms sticking and writhing along the ceiling and wall. The overhead chandeliers were flickering. Newt’s eyes wandered over the dusty black form, finding the bulkiest area spread out over the brick on the far side of the tracks. Newt climbed down and crossed the first set of tracks, quietly coming to a crouch behind one of the tiled arches dividing the tunnels. Newt took his wand out of his pocket and slipped it within his sleeve.

“Credence?” he called gently. “It is Credence, isn’t it?”

Silence answered him.

“I’m here to help you, Credence…Please, I’m not here to hurt you.” He breathed heavily, and why not? He had every reason to be afraid, but there was someone here far more frightened than he was.

Slowly rolling his shoulders across the tile, Newt rounded the corner and minded the electrified tracks as he approached the shifting, melting form. “I’ve met someone…just like you, Credence… A girl. A young girl, who’d been imprisoned… She’d been locked away, and she’d been punished for her magic.”

The obscurus was shrinking lower and lower. A shadow of black fabric rested within. The ashen particles folded over it, evaporating and disintegrating until only Credence crouched on his knees. He was not eight years old…but he was young. Too young.

But he was alive. Newt had time.

“You don’t know me,” he explained. “I am friends with Tina Goldstein. You’ve met, you and her. She wanted to do a great deal more for you than she could—than this country’s silly wizarding laws allowed—but let’s leave politics aside, shall we?”

Credence was watching him darkly, closely. He blinked, the slightest image of perplexity in his brows.

Newt swallowed to wet his throat and said, “Credence…you’re dying. Not because of them up there,” he peeked toward the ceiling where the muggles and wizards lived above, “but because you have something called an obscurus inside you. It’s a parasitical force that is made when one’s magic is deeply suppressed and abused. I know you’re fighting, Credence. Bless you, you’ve been fighting all your life, but…you’re not winning this. You aren’t letting your magic be free. It’s transforming into something else. It’s eating you. And it will eat you until you have nothing left. Until you are nothing but a name on someone’s breath.”

He could see the skepticism in Credence’s young, sculpted features, but beyond them was the same fear and anger that had made him into this.

“Please understand,” Newt pleaded kindly. “This young girl…she was an obscurial too…and she was beautiful. Her magic was beautiful. She had so much potential, so much light within her despite the cruelty that had been inflicted upon her… She died when she was eight years old, and…”

His jaws clenched. He needed to push the words out. “And I _couldn’t save her…_ You must understand, the oldest person to become an obscurus died at ten years old. None of them have endured as long as you have.”

He smiled again, unable to help it. “You’re strong, Credence. So incredibly strong. This can save you. Can I…can I come over to you?”

The change in the youth’s features was subtle yet striking. Anger replaced by more fear and distrust, but all of it fringed by a fragile pleading. He did not answer readily.

“Can I come over?” Newt coaxed again, slowly flipping his wrists so his open palms were visible. “I’d like to show you something. May I? I think you’ll very much like this…”

Credence’s eyes darted to the length of wood emerging from his sleeve. Panic infused his gaze. He recognized a wand.

“No no, no need to fear,” Newt assured, turning it so the handle pointed toward Credence. Newt took several steps forward, and reached the wand as far as he could over the tracks without touching or stepping over the metal. “This is a wand, as you obviously know, but I don’t think you were ever truly informed about its functions. It is a very useful tool to channel a wizard’s magic. This enables us to control it with relative ease. Now, usually the wand chooses the wizard, but for now we’ll need to make an exception. Would you like to take it?”

He wanted it, Newt could see that. He waited until the muscles in his shoulder burned, and then he waited some more. He watched Credence debate this over and over behind his eyes, until eventually, he lifted a trembling hand, and his cold fingers brushed Newt’s fingertips on the handle. He looked into Newt’s shining, friendly eyes.

“Wonderful. Now, I’d like for you to picture a room, all right? Or even look down that tunnel. Dark, isn’t it? Such thick darkness that the heart palpitates at the thought of being caught in it. How would you fight such darkness?”

He could feel Credence’s grip shaking, but he held the wand steady for him, its point targeted right between Newt’s eyes. He said something, but it was garbled in his throat. He pushed out, _“A light.”_

“Yes,” Newt breathed. “The word we use for this is… _lumos.”_

Credence blinked, his eyes very wide. “L… _Lumos?”_

The end of the wand blinked to life, but it was weak and stuttering. “Ah!” Credence coughed, his other hand jerking over his mouth as he stared almost accusatorially at Newt, who simply gazed back at him, and let go of the wand. The light stopped blinking, and shined as bright as the moon.

“Ah!” Credence barked again, terrified but it came out again and again, sobbing and laughter. His pale complexion flushed scarlet as tears raced over his cheeks, the light never lessening.

“Would you like to make it bigger?” Newt suggested. Credence sniffed and nodded desperately. “Lumos maxima.”

Credence huffed another sobbing laugh and repeated, “Lumos _maxima.”_

Blinding would have been an understatement. Credence’s power was like the birth of a star throughout the subway station—

A sizzling sound slithered through the air, rapidly followed by a _CRACK!_

Credence felt himself pushed and he hit the brick of the subway wall the same moment something white was knocked aside by Newt gripping his wand around Credence’s hand. Newt stood in front of him but yelled, “Step over!” and pulled Credence behind him and over the tracks. Percival Graves was coming down the tunnel. Without wasting a moment, Credence ran in the other direction—

“Credence!” Newt cried the same moment power surged through the tunnel and hit him full force. Credence stopped, watching Newt be knocked off his feet and skid over wood and gravel.

More sizzles and cracks flew from Graves’ wand, causing electric blue to swim over the tracks toward Newt. A flick of Newt’s wrist brought him back to his feet, another lifted the electricity and dissolved it into nothing. Another spell flew from Graves toward Newt but a vaporous shield halted it. Again and again and again magic flew, but Newt stopped it from reaching Credence.

Until a train paused everything.

Credence whirled around, face to face with the blinding electric lights until he felt himself lifted into the air and out of the way. Graves enchanted the tracks to ripple like a wave—they knocked Newt aside and landed in time for the train to continue past. Newt landed hard against the tiled archway and again on the ground. He twitched violently, the crackle of electricity in his clothes and hair, but he stumbled once more between Credence and Graves.

“G-Get on the platform,” Newt pointed, readying himself. They were only on the other tracks, nowhere near safety. “Credence.”

He obeyed, rushing to heave himself over the edge of the platform but Graves came for him. Newt attacked, knocking him back and away from Credence. Graves abruptly stepped back, and looked down at Newt with mixture of jaded surprise and great insult. Electric fury unleashed from Graves’ wand. He commanded these tracks to ripple like the last ones, catching Newt in the side and smashing him against the ceiling before gravity pulled him back down. Credence could only see a vague shield like an eggshell around him for protection before Graves came to stand adjacent to Newt, and lifted his wand.

The first spell broke the shell. The second was a lightning fissure directly to his body. Credence fell back onto the gravel of the tracks, prone and unable to do anything but watch Newt fight and fail for him. Again Graves cast, and again Newt rose up enough to either counter or take it. Credence recognized the sounds Newt was making, the sharp pain and forced air from his lungs.

“He’s lied to you, Credence!” Graves bellowed, but he was not looking at him. His eyes did not even look _for_ him. “Whatever he’s said! Is a lie!” Electricity thrashed over Newt’s body. “He doesn’t care about you! He cannot save you! But you and me—what we could do together!”

Newt grated. “Don’t let him manipulate you!”

“This has all happened to you, Credence, because of them. Because of no-majs and their unjustified superiority. Of our own _tolerance_ of them! No more! We won’t cater to non-magic comforts any longer!”

“CredENCEAAAHHH!” Newt screamed as lightning sadistically danced over him. Credence whined desperately in his throat, ignorant of what to do, overwhelmed by everything around him. Blackness began to froth and pool around him. Newt’s head craned back to find him, his face scarlet and dripping in pain, and Credence’s eyes met his, only they were fogging to white.

Black sand surged upward, rising and writhing like smoke across the ceiling. Graves’ assault stopped and he watched the obscurus’ path before Credence collided with his chest. Unlike his victims, Graves apparated to the other end of the platform, unscarred.

Credence went berserk.

Black filled the station, dragging along the walls, slicing through the arches, until he spiraled right out of the ceiling. Both Newt and Graves apparated around it, darting to and fro before pausing to watch the obscurus rise high into the sky, fanning out in great ripples of orange energy before he shot back down. They flew to the other end of the station, but the cloud did not stick to the walls; it remained fluid and angry in the air.

“Credence, please!” Newt yelled over the noise of air and rubble. “I can help you! Let me help you!”

“Shut your mouth,” Graves growled, but the anger surged toward them—

“Credence, no!” Porpentina ran from one of the tunnels. Her voice silenced the cacophony around them. The storm of ash slowed to an energetic swirl. “Don’t do this…please,” she pleaded. The obscurus twitched and writhed.

“Keep talking, Tina!” Newt urged. “Keep talking, he’ll listen to you. He’s listening.”

“I know what that woman did to you. I know that you’ve suffered… But you need to stop this now. Newt and I will protect you. This man…he’s using you.”

“Don’t listen to her, Credence,” Graves stood from where he and Newt had flown to avoid attack. He slammed a palm against Newt’s chest, knocking him back to the ground. The cloud of bone and ash flared and swirled. “I want you to be free. It’s all right.”

“No, no, it’s _not_ all right,” Newt barked at him, finding his feet. He turned toward Credence emerging through the cloud. “I may not know exactly what you’ve been through, but I understand loneliness. Abandonment and solitude so great it physically ails you. To be surrounded by people, even so-called family, only to feel like you’re dying and eventually, death is even a welcome thought. I made a brave decision, Credence. I sought kindness. Not the destruction this man would have you continue. None of us can make this decision for you. I’ve told you nothing but truths. If you continue this, you will die, and he knows it. I beg you to reconsider.”

Only…he did not get the chance to.

Wizards stormed down the stairs and through the tunnel, wands raised.

“No, don’t! You’ll frighten him!” Porpentina exclaimed and tried to soothe, "Credence, no! Shhh..."

Graves ordered, “Wands down! No one harms him under my command!”

Newt saw them raise their wands, and bullets of magic flew. Swathes of black folded around Credence protectively but the core of his obscurial form was being punctured with bright holes.

Graves ordered, “I commanded you to stop!”

But it was over quickly.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Only it wasn’t.

The obscurus unfolded, flaring and extending in a last ditch effort to defend itself. The air clouded, creating a twilight darkness in which only the flares of wands could be seen.

Newt ran into the darkness, throwing himself into the obscurial matter. His wand glowed red like metal as he found Credence and clutched him tightly. Credence was screaming but under it he could hear Newt’s voice uttering something too quick to decipher; a song in another language. He realized suddenly that his pain was not from jarring attacks anymore. Rather, it was the sensation of his skin being pulled from his bones. Newt was doing almost that: his wand was hooked on the dark claws and threads weaved inside him, and he was burning through them; sawing and pulling them out of Credence’s flesh.

“Yes!” Newt breathed, _“Yes!_ Wait for me, Credence, this will all be over soon.”

And he fell head first into a change purse.

Before Newt landed on the platform, he apparated back to Tina's side, the purse safely tucked inside his coat. The wizards magic broke through the obscurus, but without its host, magic shredded it into wisps and curls that floated in the air.

Graves watched the curls of black shrivel and die, nothing without their host. At the foot of the rubble that used to be the ceiling, he said his name softly.

“Fools. Do you realized what you’ve done?”

“The obscurial was killed on _my_ orders, Mr. Graves,” the Madame President proclaimed, her voice strong throughout the station.

“Yes…” Graves concurred angrily, sauntering forward. “History will surely note that, Madame President. What was done here tonight was not right.”

“He was responsible for the death of a no-maj,” she returned. “He risked the exposure of our community, he has broken one of our most sacred laws—”

“The law,” he curtailed smoothly, “that…has us scuttling like _rats_ in the gutter. A law that demands that we conceal our true nature.”

Newt watched Graves feet moving over the platform, listening closely.

“A law that directs those under its dominion to cower in fear, lest we risk discovery… I ask you, Madame President, I ask all of you: who does this law protect? Us?” He pointed upwards, “Or them?

He turned back toward the ceiling’s opening, letting his hand fall. “I refuse to bow down any longer.”

His stride picked up while Madame President declared, “Aurors, I’d like you to relieve Mr. Graves of his wand, and escort him back—”

Newt’s weight shifted at the sight of a sudden barrier blocking Graves’ path. Graves paused, looking over the barrier before he nodded to himself, reaching some decision. He turned and fired.

Sweeping evil was nestled in the bend of Newt’s wrist like always, who he unleashed into the air. The swoop of its wings distracted Graves long enough for Newt to bind him. Tina summoned his wand while Newt caught the creature and climbed onto the platform. Graves' glare found him over his shoulder.

 _“Revelio,”_ Newt murmured, though not for his own eyes.

Madame President stepped forward, and it was like looking down at an old friend long since lost but still worthy of respect.

“Do you think you can hold me?” he asked enticingly.

“We’ll do our best…Mr. Grindelwald.” He was lifted to his feet and escorted to the stairs, where Newt had thought it best to stand—

Grindelwald’s feet planted, bidding Newt’s mildly surprised gaze to meet his. “Will we die just a little?” Grindelwald said, and then they left.

Newt watched them ascend the stairs with curious eyes. _Whatever could that mean? We’re already dying little by little._

The Madame President called for his attention, and he realized his mission in America would never be completely finished. The President’s eyes were disbelieving when he said he both had a thunderbird, and it could obliviate all of New York City, but she let him set his case on the floor. All eyes heard him whistle shrilly. “Frank!”

Gold, bronze, and ivory bloomed out of the case. Newt heard the cries of awe behind him, but this was painful. He knew it was going to be a specific type of agony, but he hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon. Frank nuzzled him familiarly, his golden amber eyes boring into Newt's.

“I will miss you too, my friend,” he whispered, "I'm sorry we couldn't do this in Arizona." The vial of blue venom wiggled in his fingers. “You know what to do.”

The vial flew, and so did Frank. His gold rippled with blue as thunderstorms rippled and blossomed in the sky, their rain immediately falling on the faces of the muggles watching.

“We owe you a great debt, Mr. Scamander,” Madame President said behind him. She was pleased before she looked down at the suitcase in his hands. “Now, get that case out of New York.”

She turned toward the stairs and said to her nearest colleagues, “I want the paperwork on this wrapped up by luncheon. The obscurial was eliminated at seven o’clock—”

“Credence,” Porpentina curtailed. “His name was Credence.”

The President was silent, but she nodded her ascent. She took a step but stopped suddenly. “Is that no-maj still here?”

Newt’s countenance fell. _No…not him too._

“Obliviate him. There can be no exceptions.”

Newt heard the Goldsteins shift around him, and based on the President’s expression, she faced adversity. “I’m sorry, but no witnesses. You know the law…I’ll let you say goodbye.”

Jacob sighed, and the Goldsteins were silent. They waited for the station to empty before they climbed the stairs—

Queenie grabbed the back of Jacob’s coat. Rain sang on the metal awning over their heads.

“Hey…” Jacob soothed, turning around to face them. “This is for the best…yeah. I-I was…I was never even supposed to be here,” he said, trying to be uplifting, but his voice wavered. Queenie’s hand on his coat did not loosen. Jacob tried to continue, “I was never s’posed to know…,” he swallowed thickly, “a-any a’this…”

He tried to laugh but he sniffled. He smiled toward Newt. “Everybody knows Newt only kept me around, because…”

Newt’s head lifted. “Hey…Newt, why did you keep me around?”

The answer was rather simple, and came readily. “Because I like you,” he said honestly. “Because you’re my friend, and I'll never forget how you helped me, Jacob.”

Jacob couldn’t look at him. He looked just about everywhere else before he sobbed, “Oh.”

Queenie rushed up the stairs. “I’ll come with you,” she whispered, but when Jacob laughed she said more strongly, “We’ll go somewhere! Anywhere!”

Oh how he wanted that. His smile evaporated and she uttered, “See…I ain’t never gonna find anyone like you.”

He shook his head. “There’s loads like me.”

“No,” she breathed. “There’s only one like you.”

This was difficult for everyone, but most of all Jacob. The kindness they had shown him, the open hearts who welcomed him despite his previous ignorance and the stigmas surrounding both of their communities…he had to make this decision on his own.

“I gotta go.” He turned around, wiping his eyes—

“Jacob,” Newt said, ascending the stairs to stand beside Queenie. Tina was right behind him.

“It’s okay,” Jacob assured, nodding. But it sounded more like he was speaking to himself. “It’s okay…” He adjusted his coat and looked up at Newt. “It’s just like waking up, right?”

He walked backwards under the rain, and the pretense faded from his eyes. He might as well have been dying, severed from a world so unlike his own, so similar in its flaws but still so much better. From an environment full of the only friends he’d had since the war.

Rain pelted softly against his eyelids. Newt sniffed quietly, drawing Tina’s gaze to him. His face was turned away, but she’d only heard him sniff when Pickett was torn from his hand.

Holding her wand up, Queenie walked to him under the rain. For a long moment, she blocked the obliviate water from him as she stroked his cheek, and kissed him…and he kissed her back. His hands lifted for her waist, but she was already gone.

*******

Leaving Jacob under the rain, and the three of them apparated back to the Goldstein’s apartment. Newt hastily set his suitcase down on the sofa and all but fell into it. “Newt!” Tina called behind him. She followed within to where the thunderbird had previously perched. Newt was furiously tearing at his clothes.

“Newt, Newt, hey,” she rushed to him. She grasped his shoulders to steady him. “Listen, if it’s about Jacob, I know it isn’t ideal, but he is safe this way—”

Newt finally found what he was looking for and turned what looked like a coin purse upside-down. Credence came tumbling out, landing rather indignantly on the sandstone.

Porpentina balked at the pale, shocked boy. “CREDENCE?”

Pale and shivering, he was in a worse state. Newt calmly said, “There are blankets just behind the door, if you wouldn’t mind.”

She looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. Newt tranquilly gazed back. “He’s freezing, Tina. The last creature I kept in there was an ice serpent, which is capable of weaving a nest of arctic temperatures.”

With that she rushed to find the blankets. Newt looked at Credence, whose red-rimmed eyes were wary and widening at his surroundings. His movements were jerky from hypothermia. “Everything in here is perfectly harmless,” Newt smiled kindly.

Credence looked at him dubiously. Newt held out his hand to him, his eyes bright and wet. “I never introduced myself. My name is Newt Scamander. An absolute pleasure, Credence.”

He laughed breathily, for a reason Credence did not understand. Slowly, the severe distrust on his face ebbed, to be replaced with utter alarm as a creature with tentacles for lips ambled passed him to reach Newt. Credence watched it fondle his hair while a…plant was moving on his lapel. The only things keeping him in place were his trembling limbs and the fact that Newt hadn't moved an inch. His eyes never strayed from Credence.

"Welcome to my sanctuary," Newt said.

Tina came up behind Credence with the blankets, initially intending to wrap him gently but she was just in time to catch him as he fainted.

**Author's Note:**

> You can visit me on [Tumblr](http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/) or I'm more active on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums)


End file.
